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“Yeah, for that,” she agreed, smiling back.
“You sure you’re alright?” I asked.
“We’ll be okay,” she assured me, meaning her and the dog, who was nibbling on the ear of his Golden Retriever stuffed animal. “Thank you, Alaric. Really,” she said as I made it to the door out of sheer force of will. Because I really wanted to go and sit next to her. Then, after a while, carry her off to bed.
She didn’t need my sexual advances after a hard night.
She needed some rest.
“Anytime,” I said, meaning it. “Text me,” I said, before taking myself into the hallway.
I shot off a quick text to Sion, letting him know she was okay.
I paused there, head tipped back, eyes closed, trying to reason with every cell in my body that wanted to barge right back in there.
When my gaze opened, I saw the police tape on the door, and a violent slash of blood on the frame.
Something about it wasn’t sitting right with me.
But I had no claim to Siana.
I couldn’t insist she let me stay, or to come with me.
So I did the only thing I could.
I left.
Kicking myself for it the entire way home.
Tried to get back to my own life.
And in doing so, the next day, I wasn’t home when she showed up on my doorstep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Siana
It had been a truly awful night.
Horrific.
I should have been racked with nightmares of bad guys with guns, and friendly faces bleeding out all over the place.
Having more wild sex dreams about Alaric felt wildly inappropriate as I woke up, sweaty and frustrated.
I guess I could blame the fact that I’d not only seen him in person again, but that he’d been in my space. He’d been… nice.
I mean I was practically a complete stranger, but he’d held me while I sobbed. He stayed and talked to me, even though he was under no obligation to do so. Then he’d even left me his phone number and address in case I wanted to talk to him. Or go to a party with him.
I’d stared at that little note a lot longer than I should have, my mind flashing with images of what a biker party might look like.
It wasn’t long until the fantasy devolved to me standing there, holding up the walls, feeling wholly out of place and awkward until, finally, I snuck out without being seen. Or missed.
I really doubted I was ever going to take him up on the offer, but I did find myself plugging his number in, then his address in with his contact.
In doing so, I felt slightly less of a loser for my contacts list. Which consisted of my mother, the vet, my doctor, and various takeout food numbers.
That was it.
